


See You Again, Love

by coffeeblossoms02



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Assassins & Hitmen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-29
Updated: 2018-08-29
Packaged: 2019-07-04 06:18:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15835491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coffeeblossoms02/pseuds/coffeeblossoms02
Summary: In which Doyoung was paid to kill, and Taeyong wanted to die.





	See You Again, Love

**Author's Note:**

> this is my first time posting in here and im kinda nervous but oh well here i am. this fic is crossposted on aff. and oh, i never intend to make Doyoung seems to be ignorant. i love him and NCT so much. and before you read, pls note that this fic deals with issues like beliefs, depression and a bit of blood. if you're sensitive about these topics, please don't proceed. anyway, please enjoy!  
> [edit] just the margin tho it looked messy im sorry

The young man didn’t believe in anything, more less in people. He always questioned everything, people’s motives, reasons behind propaganda, endless reports of petty crimes to divert public’s attention from what those minority of people in suit doing with their money behind them, he knew the kinds of crime those people do behind closed doors, while they were the ones shouting campaign about equity and equality on top of their lungs in front of cameras. He knew what they were capable of doing in order to fulfill their selfish wishes Lucifer would be proud of them. He knew what they would do to gain more and more, to fill the broken cup that was their greed, insatiable desire of power. He knew what men could do with their twisted, rotten, nonexistent heart to another men, leave alone to another creatures they would simply disregard for the sake of achieving their sickening goals. No kind of crimes human could do would surprise him anymore. He respected people with faith, since he couldn’t find it in himself to believe in anything anymore. He didn’t even believe in future, with the harsh life he lived, teaching him that the world is an anarchy field for battle of survival, maintaining power, wealth, beauty, or any other artificial pleasure, anything you could count. How could he believe in anything, with the amount of faith he had on human?  
Doyoung was peacefully nestled on his bed, blanket wrapped loosely around him, while he was busy scrolling through twitter to watch drama happened in his friends’ lives, when his other phone rang loudly from his bottom drawer of his bedside table. He let out exaggerated sigh, bent his body towards the table and reluctantly fetched his phone to see an Unknown Number dialing. He sighed again. "Hello?"  
"The Angel of Death, hello," greeted a poorly filtered voice.  
He didn't even feel the need to know how the unidentified number could reach him. The phone he was using was the untraceable one that could only be accessed if you were either smart enough or desperate enough (mostly both) to go through high risk to look for an assassin’s number in the underground world. That meant one thing, a new job for him. "May I know who I am talking with?"  
"Who I am is none of your business. I want you to execute someone. Just tell me how much do you want."  
He rolled his eyes. People who came to him always did that, acting all high and might but would go as low as finding someone to do the dirty job to keep their hands clean. He asked himself internally why he didn’t consider looking for another job that didn't include dealing with hypocrites. "I am sorry dear good Sir, but I don't do business with someone who uses paid voice changer and order me around the first thing. Good bye."  
"What, how do you— Wait, wait-"  
He smirked. That trick always worked. And the caller was idiot enough to fall for it.  
"I'm South from S company."  
Yes. He was definitely, utterly, shamelessly an idiot. "Now that's better. I can't address you with Unknown Number, can I?" He let out deep chuckle. "What can I help you with, Mr. South?"  
"Like I said before, I want you to execute someone. I don't care how, just do it quick. And the money is not a problem for me; just tell me how much you want."  
This one was hilarious he almost laughed. "Who is it that I have to kill, Mr. South?"  
"It's Lee Taeyong from N company."  
"I see. I will send you the details for payment and I need three days to finish the job."  
"Three days? Isn't that too long? I said I want it quickly."  
He rolled his eyes again. Not only was an idiot, his latest client apparently also an impatient child. Doyoung had to hold the urge to snort and disconnect the call. "I have my own work ethic, Mr. South. If you feel inconvenient with that, you are free to find another one."  
He could hear the other line muttering curses under his breath. "Fine."  
He heard footsteps from outside of the room. The front door closed loudly followed by obnoxious scream. He closed his eyes and massaged his scalp with his free hand, feeling nausea growing.  
"Very well Mr. South," He said as he walked to his work desk, starting his laptop and started typing. "I am sending you the details as we speak. And I am expecting my payment now."  
"What? Right now?"  
"Dons!" His bedroom door slammed open and a Japanese guy threw himself onto his bed.  
He glared to the Japanese and the latter caught up what was happening after a confused blink and a sheepish grimace, mouthing "Sorry".  
He shook his head and focused back to the laptop, ignoring the Japanese. "Yes, right now. Don't you want the job to be done quickly?"  
"Okay."  
He typed more and for a moment, nobody talked.  
Then the caller spoke, “Wow, you’re really fast. And how do you know my personal mail?”  
He chuckled, “I have my ways Sir, thank you.”  
“Are you sure this is all? I can add more if you want.”  
“No, that’s enough Sir.”  
“Okay, give me a moment.”  
“Alright Sir,” he said monotonously. He connected the phone to his air pod then left his phone beside the laptop, plugging a pod to his ear. He turned to see his older friend lying on his stomach with his hands supporting his head, with the grin he always described as dumb. He wondered how they were friends. “Stop grinning, Yuta. You’re scary.”  
“Why? Can’t I be happy that you get a job for the first time in a while?”  
Doyoung rolled his eyes. “Not every day you want to kill someone and can actually afford it, Yuta. And not everybody can access deep web easily, you know that. They don’t just get my number from those chips bags. And I think a month isn’t even that long.”  
“Still, I’m happy for you,” Yuta replied, still with the grin on his face.  
He gave up, feeling lethargic and didn’t want to start stupid bicker with the older. “Thank you.”  
“Hello, you still there?” Mr. South called him.  
He focused back to his new client, “Yes, Mr. South. I’m still here.”  
“I’ve transferred your payment. Go check your account.”  
He hummed, eyes not leaving the screen. "I don't see numbers adding." He lied; he saw a sum of money transferred to his account on the screen. He offered his service on high tariff, but the amount he got per job still surprised him every time. He wouldn't settle for less though, his payment should worth the high risk he had to deal with.  
"Do your job and I'll give you the rest."  
He couldn’t stop himself from scoffing this time. “Very well then Sir. Please sit back and relax while I do the job. Good bye for now.” He hung up the call and threw his phone mindlessly to the table.  
He sighed. He hated his job. But the bills wouldn't pay themselves and the money was good. It wasn't an ideal job per se, something against the law. But he knew his clients would go as far as bending the law to suit their interest if their position of comfort was threatened, so screw the law.  
Yuta clacked behind him, making him turned back and threw the older irritated, incredulous look.  
“I don’t understand why you can be so polite with those bastards.” Yuta threw his head back and continued laughing.  
He shrugged. Yuta was right; people who paid for an assassin to execute someone else, so no matter who they were, they didn’t deserve any kind of polite treatment. But He loved to live up to his name; The Angel of Death so he had to. “Don’t you have something better to do?”  
Yuta perked up at the question. “Ah right! I wanna go out and probably won’t come home tonight,” he announced, wiggling his eyebrow suggestively.  
Doyoung scrunched his nose, “Ew okay. Are you going to go with Sicheng again?”  
The elder’s eyes lit up. “Oh, you finally care about who I go out with?” he asked with amused grin.  
Doyoung rolled his eyes. “No, stupid. I just have to know who to look for if you die tonight.”  
Yuta laughed, “I know you love me Dons.”  
Doyoung grimaced and turned back to his laptop, opting to ignore his older friend.  
“If you’re curious, I’m going with Jaehyun tonight.”  
That piqued his interest. He turned back facing Yuta, with his brow furrowed. “If my memories don’t fail me, they’re friends, aren’t they? Are you really going to ruin a friendship like that?”  
“Dude, come on! They’re both are so irresistible! Who am I to reject such blessings coming my way?”  
Doyoung rolled his eyes again. “Don’t come to me if they both decide you’re not worth their time.”  
Yuta threw him a pillow, to which he caught easily. “Yah! Be more supportive to your hyung will ya.”  
“I will once you stop hoeing around.”  
Yuta just laughed at the snarky remark. “It’s never then. Because I’m never gonna stop. Don’t wanna waste the beauty and charm God has given to me.”  
Doyoung sneered but then he laughed along, “Whatever you say, Nakamoto.”  
He turned back to his laptop, ignoring the older again and started to look about every bit of information about his new target. If he was asked to mention one fun thing about his job, his answer would be “background-checking his targets”. In some way, that was his source of entertainment. It wasn’t rare case that his target had an affair with his client and then they broke off at some point. Then his client wanted to ascend higher in his social status thus they had to make sure not to leave ugly traces behind. Or when his target and his client used to be best buddies but business world made them separated paths and compete against each other. His client knew they wouldn’t win so they asked him to get rid of the trouble instead. Or sometimes it was as trivial as a jealous husband who wanted the one his wife had been sleeping with to die. Somehow the history between his clients and his targets were more hilarious than dramas and it was kind of amusing for him.  
“You should have some fun too, Dons,” Yuta said suddenly.  
His hand halted, paused for a moment. “I’m fine like this,” he said, not bothering to look at the older, continuing his work.  
“You can’t keep locking yourself inside the house like this. It’s unhealthy. Come with me.”  
“And watch you sucking faces with Jaehyun? No thanks, I still have sanity to maintain.”  
Yuta clicked his tongue, “This brat. And how on earth drowning in your bed literally 24/7 keep you sane? Come on Dons, its’ gonna be fun!”  
“I’d much prefer not waste my energy for unnecessary physical activity, thank you.”  
He tuned Yuta out when he started rambling about “basic physical needs that was a pleasurable to do”. He knew Yuta meant well, that he had to _live_. Yuta always complained that he stayed in the house too much his skin got too pale. But he simply didn’t have the will to go out. Yuta and him were complete opposite of each other, while the older was easy going, outspoken, and even though he came off as arrogant sometimes, he was thoughtful and was never ill intentioned to the people he cared for, and Doyoung was more guarded, more of a sharp tongued even when he didn’t mean to and always found people exhausting. Their personality crashed but somehow that made their friendship stronger, not that Doyoung had many friends, with his seemingly untouchable persona.  
But then his train of thought was interrupted when he saw the photos of his target. The guy was far from what he’d imagined. He had thought his target would be a middle aged man with overbearing kind of demeanor like he owned the whole world. But the results of his search were showing a young man, only a year older than him, with delicate features and soft edges; everything about him screamed innocence and purity. And that face, oh that face. If Doyoung was an angel, that person would be God. He wouldn’t mind to be his slave if that meant he could see that face forever. The word beautiful wouldn’t even do the man’s face justice.  
Yuta whistled from behind him. “I’d hit that if I were you. Too bad he ain’t gonna live much longer.”  
He didn’t answer but he agreed with the older.  
Yuta patted his shoulder, “I’m off Dons. Please do go out some time. Relax a bit, for your own health.” Then he walked out of Doyoung’s room, not waiting for answer. He knew he wouldn’t get any anyways.

One of the things he hated about his job was when he had to do the actual work. Something like disarming the alarms, the guards, disconnecting the whole building from the world were easy for him. But when he came face to face with his targets, he always had an unsettling feeling on his stomach. He should be used to look at his target in the eye as he had the deed done. And he shouldn’t be so shaken to see his target up close, just right in the close shooting range, to make his job less messy. That wasn’t even his first time doing this. But apparently his heart wasn’t prepared for the beauty stood in front of him. He wanted to curse his luck, but really, it was his cursed life playing with him.  
"Who are you?"  
_Oh, he even sounds so beautiful too._ "The Angel of Death of yours," He answered in low, deep tone. He chuckled to himself. No matter how maddening his job got, he liked this particular part. He loved to play the holy angel, like he was the actually destined one to take his targets' lives, instead of a mere murderer. "Do you have any last words?"  
"Finally! Where have you been? Do you know I want to die since ages ago?" his target asked with faux cheer, but his voice cracked in the end.  
He was stupefied. Not only the guy didn't seem to faze with the gun pointed to his head, but he also had the guts to mock the only thing he enjoyed in his job— not that he needed to know about that.  
And Taeyong seemed to notice his momentarily shock, as he asked, "Who hired you?"  
He shrugged off his shock before and answered nonchalantly, "That's not your business."  
"Well, please do tell them not to waste money to get rid of me. They don't grow on trees you know. And I'll do it myself for free honestly,” the shorter male retorted. He even had the audacity to shove his hands to his slacks’ pocket in challenging manner. He also tilted his head cutely to Doyoung. What?  
But Doyoung wasn’t Doyoung if he didn’t get irritated pretty easily, by such remark. "Damn bitch, if I tell them that I won't get the money."  
"Fine. Give me that gun,” Taeyong extended his hand. “I'll do it for you and you don't have to tell anyone, so you'll still get the money."  
Doyoung lowered the gun as he studied the latter’s figure. His God, Taeyong– he snorted inwardly to his own thought– looked too ethereal to be a mortal, if it wasn’t for the trembling of his hand and his pupils shaking at the sight of a gun. Taeyong was afraid– a solid proof that he was indeed human– but also he wasn’t. Like he really did want to die. “ _Since ages ago_ ,” he quoted Taeyong’s word in his head.  
Doyoung tilted his head. “You know what, that’s a good idea.”  
“W-what?” Taeyong’s eyes widened in utter shock, but then he faked a cough and added, “I mean, I know, right?” He tried to look unbothered, but his body gave him away. He took a step back, blood rushing out of his face, looking at anywhere but Doyoung.  
Doyoung couldn’t stop a smirk forming on his lips. He’d be actually surprised if Taeyong didn’t get panic. One might loathe their life with all of their being, they could cry for someone to end their suffering; they would blame the void as they feel as if life was drained out of them. But wait until someone actually held a gun towards them, wait until they feel foreign object came in contact with their skin, ripping their flesh apart as the blood flowing out of them and they wouldn’t even have the chance to wallow in shock, wait until they saw their life flashing before their eyes. And then, they would beg for another chance in life. He knew Taeyoung wouldn’t be of any different. Human, he scoffed inwardly.  
He took a step closer to the latter. Taeyong practically jumped in distress but didn’t make any move to run away from him. He looked so defenseless and so fragile, also so tired. His beautiful onyx orbs were reflecting sadness behind the apprehensive nervous. There were prominent eye bags that didn’t come only from the lack of sleep. His body was toned but was still too lean, and his overall posture slacked despite of the rigid stance in front of his murderer. Even if he was disheveled, he still looked perfect clad in baby blue dress shirt, accentuating his pale complexion. He was handsome, but tired and sad Doyoung could almost see how life had been eating him alive.  
Doyoung hated his job, and one of many reasons was witnessing how helpless his targets were in front of his very eyes behind the gun. But something about Taeyong’s helplessness made him wanted to do something other than to pull the trigger to get his job done already. He wanted to ease the sorrow in those beautiful eyes even just for a moment. So he ignored the voice of reason in his head and said, "You know what, let's go get a drink. My treat."  
Taeyong let out weird, broken laugh. "Is it a kind of murder culture now? To go out and drink with your victim?"  
"Target," Doyoung corrected. He released breath he didn’t know he was holding. He reasoned with himself inwardly that maybe Taeyong needed a help, or an ear to listen to him. Or maybe it was just his own lame excuse to get close to Taeyong. Just for a moment, he thought. "And no. You just look like you need it. And I can use a break to be honest."  
He didn’t know what he was expecting for. _Who would want to go drink with someone who pointed gun at them?_ But he still found himself nervous, fiddling with the gun in his hand like some high school kid asking his crush to go out on a date. He snorted to himself inwardly.  
After an agonizing minute of silence, Taeyong smiled to him. A weak smile, but still a beautiful smile nonetheless. He always thought that it was impossible to fall for a mere smile, leave alone with such smile, but there Taeyong’s weak smile proving him wrong.  
“I had no idea assassins are generous.” Taeyong chuckled nervously.  
He was stunned by Taeyong’s chuckle he felt the corner of his lips tugging. But he shrugged away his awestruck. He tilted his head backwards a bit, licking his lips open mouthed, a form of flirty habit he picked up from Yuta– he would always snort at the accusation and said “ _You have it in you Dons._ ” “You’re just lucky it’s me.”  
The lip licking seemed to startle Taeyong. He was flustered, his ears went red and he stuttered “I guess.” Doyoung chuckled. Cute.  
"But don't forget to do your job. Whoever hired you must've found me blocking their path,” Taeyong said after he calmed down from his flustering, genuine concern laced in his tone.  
_How can someone who was about to die still think so kindly of someone who paid an assassin to kill him?_ Doyoung only shrugged then he shoved his gun to the back of his jeans, safe under his overused hoodie. "Not my problem."  
The truth was, he knew why his client wanted his target dead. Lee Taeyong was the owner of a new emerging entertainment company in the business world. He was young and bold just like his moves on the field. And he was also tactful and diplomatic; making him could win almost every negotiation easily. Not only that, Lee Taeyong was a charming young man who could easily make any of those models outsold with intriguing personality which could lure anyone in to go along with whatever he wanted. From Doyoung’s research, the guy didn’t have to do much to make any related startup company to support him. Talking about the convenience of the gifts he was blessed with. Clearly, Lee Taeyong was an alarming threat for every established entertainment company.  
He tested the water and walked out of the door of Taeyong’s office, still doubting if the other male wouldn't try anything funny and call the police. But the sound of slow steps following behind took him by surprise. He really didn’t know what to think about other than, This guy really wants to die.  
They descended the building in silence, with Doyoung leaning leisurely on the elevator’s wall and Taeyong hugged himself on the opposite corner from him. He took the chance to ogle at the older from the reflection on the elevator’s mirror. Taeyong was frowning in distress, chewing his bottom lip, his eyes unfocused. But even so, he still looked so attractive.  
Taeyong felt the weight of Doyoung’s gaze; he brought himself to look at the taller from the mirror. Much to his dismay, Doyoung smirked at him when their eyes met. Taeyong turned away as he felt heat creeping on his face.  
Doyoung taunted, “Shy much, eh, pretty boy?”  
Taeyong just bit his lips, his frown deepened and his face went deeper red if it was possible.  
Doyoung’s smirk grew wider at the shy Taeyong as he snickered, “Cute.”  
Taeyong didn’t say anything; he only tightened the hold around his small frame. He followed Doyoung quietly out of the elevator to the parking lot. Doyoung tuned in the sound of other male’s steps. He was still expecting Taeyong to run. But he then heard the latter suddenly stopped on his track. He shoved his hand to his coat’s pocket and grabbed a knife, in case he had to stop Taeyong from running and finish him then and there.  
“That’s… pretty average,” Taeyong commented when they reached Doyoung’s car. He expected a suspicious looking truck with false company stickers, or a random luxurious stolen car, not a regular midsize car. He blamed his expectation on the Hollywood’s movies about hit men. But then again, Doyoung looked nothing like those hot and dangerous hit men in the movies, with jeans too ripped to function and worn out sneakers. Well except maybe for the fact that he was handsome, and that stupidly hot smirk.  
Doyoung quirked his brow at Taeyong in mixture of amusement and relieved, “Can’t afford to use something flashy now can I? That attracts too much attention.” He continued the walk before adding, “Mundane is safe, FYI.”  
Doyoung’s words made Taeyong freeze on his spot as realization hit him. He was following a hit man, someone who was going to kill him. He was going to die.  
"Hey," Taeyong called the other again.  
Doyoung stopped hastily and turned to a fidgety Taeyong. "What is it? You're not coming?"  
Taeyong bit his lower lip, shuffling on his spot, staring at his shoes. "How much they paid you?"  
Doyoung frowned. _Maybe he wants to pay me to not kill him?_ "Why?" he asked in rather sharp tone.  
Taeyong lifted his head and look at Doyoung in the eye. "Can you protect my brother? Whoever wants me dead isn’t going to stop on me, right?” Taeyong forced a laugh. He rubbed the nape of his neck. Upon Doyoung not answering to him, he added, “Protect him and I'll pay triple or tenfold the amount or however you want it."  
Doyoung released the grip on the knife in his pocket. "I'm an assassin, I don't play guard."  
"Then kill them,” Taeyong demanded, his voice turned firm, his gaze hard.  
If Doyoung wasn’t used to people commanding him as they like in his job, he would be startled by the authority Taeyong was using on him. What surprised Doyoung was the change in Taeyong’s demeanor. Just before, the latter was dead pale seeing a gun pointed at him, but now he was oozing with might. But what would make of an assassin if such display of power could intimidate him? "Sorry?"  
Taeyong took a deep breath, composing himself before continuing. "Whoever paid you? Kill them after you kill me so they won't come after my brother. I'll pay."  
Doyoung wanted to say something but the look in Taeyong’s eyes was firm, allowing no room for objection. Nobody talked for a while as Taeyong stood firm in his spot, waiting for Doyoung to comply with his demand. Doyoung stared at him with brows furrowed, but then he noticed the elder’s hand shaking slightly, opening and closing in discomfort. Of course, he’s talking to a murderer after all. He nodded his head towards the car to Taeyong. "Let's talk about it later. Come on. Before I change my mind and kill you here now."  
Taeyong stared at Doyoung’s eyes, searching, not used to being denied of his requests, and contemplating if Doyoung’s threat was real. When he saw no sign of giving in to his demand in those black orbs, and no remorse, he gave up and walked towards the younger. Doyoung let Taeyong entered his car first, eyes following his every movement.

Never once in his five years of killing people he ever considered to get a drink before finishing the duty. Leave alone to drink with his target. His only contact with his targets was one way communication which was the bang from his guns or the sick sound of flesh being cut open by his blades or horrifying muffled scream from his target as he took their life with his hands. And he didn’t drink often even though he knew he could handle his alcohol well. He hated the vulnerable state he’d had to drown into under the alcohol influence, or maybe it was just him hating that he couldn’t have control of his own body after the alcohol take control, or the headache that came with the hangover, while it was fun to ease the tense on his shoulder every once in a while.  
But there he was, holding his liquor, trying not to drink too much with a task in hand, or rather a target in hand, quite literally. Taeyong was leaning on his shoulder; his face too close to his neck he could feel the elder’s breathe fanning on his skin with his hand settled on Doyoung’s thigh, playing with the holes in his jeans. And apparently Taeyong was the happy drunk type, he couldn’t stop giggling at everything and nothing, he even giggled at Doyoung’s breathing.  
It seemed like his patience and self-control were being tested with someone as Godly as Taeyong, not so sober, leaning so close and oh so inviting to him. If he was an ass, which he had the pride that he wasn’t, maybe he’d had taken advantage of the situation. But no, why would take advantage of a defenseless person if he could use his charm to lure him in? He might be a murderer, but he held tight to his moral, or what was left of it anyway. Oh the irony.  
Suddenly Taeyong sat up straight startling him. "I still don't know your name. Don't worry, you'll kill me anyway so I'm not gonna live to telltale," Taeyong slurred as extended his hand towards him. "I'm Lee Taeyong."  
Doyoung chuckled but he shook the elder’s hand anyway. "I know Taeyong. I did some research of you. I'm Doyoung."  
Taeyong giggled and pulled his hand. He called Doyoung’s name and giggled again. “Really? Is it part of the job? What did you find?”  
Doyoung hummed, “It is. I found an angel, Taeyong,” he said with a smile.  
Taeyong blinked slowly, “What?”  
Taeyong was just there being clueless yet he still looked handsome. If Doyoung was simply attracted to him before, now he was enthralled. But he knew there was more than that, and whatever it was; he tried so hard to push it to the back of his mind. Even if he was sure the feeling was mutual— he knew by the way the older looked at him with something more than adoration, something other than curiosity, something that wasn’t terrified— he couldn’t risk and give it a try. They couldn’t risk it.  
He didn’t know what had gotten to him, but he started singing.  
I saw an angel  
When I first saw you  
You shined like an angel from heaven  
I got curious  
Who do you resemble to be that beautiful?  
I’ll be your morning star,  
And you are my angel,  
You are my angel  
I’ll be you morning star,  
And you are my angel,  
You are my angel  
Taeyong’s smile at him was so beautiful he had to hold back the urge to kiss that smile. Taeyong couldn’t keep his eyes off of him while he sang. Taeyong was mesmerized by Doyoung’s soft expression, by his gentle eyes, by his smooth angelic voice, and by the way Doyoung reached out to hold both his hand by the end of the song.  
Taeyong’s eyes sparkled with beautiful happy glint, his face blooming with a shy smile, and beautiful shade of pink adorning his cheeks making him look even more ethereal. And then Doyoung knew he was indeed, falling. He thought he could just dismiss the tingling feeling when Taeyong leaned on him, the giddiness whenever Taeyong smiled, the strange sense of ‘coming home’ when Taeyong called his name, the familiar warmth when he stared at him. He thought it was out of his reach to fall in love, considering his job. But there he was, falling for his target, hard.  
Doyoung almost got heart attack when Taeyong bit his lip shyly and muttered, “Thank you, Doyoung.”  
“Uh, okay,” he answered, speechless. He could feel his face heating up. He blamed that on the way Taeyong looking at him. He snorted to himself inwardly. _What are you? 15?_  
Taeyong showed his toothy smile and he felt warm all over. How he wanted to take Taeyong home. But the moment was short lived when Taeyong giggled again and asked, "Well then Doyoung, why don't we dance?"  
Doyoung could feel blood drained out of his face. If there was one thing he wasn’t confident of, it was dancing. His answer was firm, "No, I don't dance."  
But again, his patience limit was tested when Taeyong whined, "Ah whyyy?"  
"Because I can't dance."  
Taeyong gasped dramatically, “But you can sing!”  
Doyoung couldn’t help to roll his eyes, “Dancing is like literally different from singing, Taeyong.”  
“Ah come on! Doyoung!” Taeyong whined with exaggerated pout. “For meee!” he added with big puppy eyes and hands clasped together on his chest.  
Doyoung closed his eyes and sighed a “No”, why there were so many people asking him to do what he didn’t want to these days. Well, they were only Yuta and Taeyong. But they were still two too many.  
Taeyong shook his body, jumping on his feet, tilting his head left and right, making weird noises. “Doyoungieee? Pleaseee? Pretty please please please? With cherry on top?”  
Doyoung crumbled at Taeyong’s aegyo. He didn’t know he’d be dying just because of such childish act. Did Taeyong make him feel everything he had no idea he’d be experiencing before. Something even more thrilling than fighting people, rushing his car on the street to escape any possible threat, blending in the crowd, acting nonchalant as not to gain suspicion. Something pleasant, in a way he didn’t want to let go, didn’t want it to be over, and didn’t want to forget so he wouldn’t wake up in the middle of the night, drenching in sweat because of nightmare.  
He relented with a groan. “Okay, but don’t you dare laughing.”  
Taeyong laughed. "Awww Doyoungie is shy! He's so cute!" Taeyong cooed, pinching Doyoung's cheek.  
Doyoung swatted Taeyong’s hand from his face but the older was quick to reach his hand again, pulling him to the dance floor. Doyoung saw Taeyong grinning happily before he turned his head, excitedly leading the way. He found himself grinning; he wondered who planted flowers in his black heart.  
The thing was Doyoung really couldn’t dance. He danced awkwardly, or at least he tried moving his limbs to the blasting music. In his defense, all his life, the closest move to dancing he ever did was swaying his hands to the tune of the songs he sang. While Taeyong danced so gracefully facing him. He moved his body so smoothly, so effortlessly, so enticingly, as if his body became one with the music, and Doyoung almost forgot how to breathe. He didn’t miss the mocking grin in Taeyong’s face watching his helpless dance but he was far too gone to give it a mind. But the grin was replaced by a teasing smirk, his moved turned erotic he was basically enjoying feeling himself too much. With his hooded eyes on Doyoung’s, the younger shook the thought of Taeyong trying to seduce him.  
But as if to answer his thought, Taeyong moved closer to him. Slowly, deadly, enamoring in the way he couldn’t look anything other than Taeyong. He moved close enough he could run his hand on Doyoung’s chest. If Taeyong seemed so innocent before, the mischievous glint in his eyes now told another story. He leaned forward, breathing to Doyoung’s ear, “Do you know that you’re handsome, Doyoung?” then pulled back just enough to see Doyoung’s face.  
Doyoung laughed, “I get that a lot.”  
Taeyong giggled, his free hand covered his mouth. “Ohhh. Confident aren’t you?”  
Doyoung raised his brow, his lips forming amused grin. “What about it?”  
The older shook his head and giggled again. “I like confidence,” he said, resting both his hand on Doyoung’s shoulder. He leaned in to whisper again, “It makes you desirable, you know.”  
Doyoung pulled back, looking at the older incredulously. But Taeyong only smiled innocently to him. The older extended his hand to Doyoung, “Follow me,” he said.  
“Huh?”  
Taeyong giggled as he put Doyoung’s hands on his waist. “Dance with me, silly.”  
_Oh._ “Oh, o-okay.”  
Taeyong giggled again but Doyoung wouldn’t get tired of it. If he could, he’d like to hear more of it, he’d like to hear Taeyong giggling sober so he’d know the reason of it, he’d like to hear him laughing, he’d like to listen to him talking about the things he loved, his daily life, his dreams, his problems, or everything. But now he would take anything the older offered to him, because he knew it’d only be a waste of energy to think of ‘if only’. He chose to take the chance his life offered to him, and live in the present. With Taeyong.  
He started moving his body to Taeyong’s lead. He tried to concentrate with much difficulty, distracted by the way Taeyong danced, but his melodious giggle always pulled him back to reality. Taeyong was very patient with showing him the moves and he didn’t even laugh at his poor attempt on dancing.  
“You know what, for someone who doesn’t dance, you’re doing pretty well,” Taeyong mused.  
Doyoung snorted, “You’re too kind.” But the blush on his face betrayed him. Turning his face away from Taeyong, he muttered, “Thanks.”  
When he turned back, Taeyong was looking at him with something akin to admiration in his eyes he could barely cover his fluster with fake cough. “Why are you looking at me like that?”  
Taeyong smiled. “For someone who kills to live, you don’t seem that heartless after all.”  
Then it hit the younger. He was baring himself in front of Taeyong too much. He let Taeyong see the vulnerable side of him, which in other circumstances, was unfavorable for him. But he felt like he couldn’t care less. He would let Taeyong to see more of him while they were together. While he could. He knew he shouldn't be attached to his target. Not in that kind of way. But really, it was hard not to.  
He had seen Taeyong's picture from his research. Taeyong was no doubt beautiful. But to saw him in person, with dim lights sharpening his features, shadows looming on him in right places, making Taeyong looked glowing; he was at loss with words. Being best friends with Yuta, another assassin whose side job was a model; he had seen a lot of beautiful people— is it Yuta's friends, colleagues, or his flings. And he knew he wasn't bad himself— if the number of men and women who'd tried hit on him was any of indication. But did Taeyong take his breath away. And he wouldn’t want it any other way. And to have his hands around Taeyong, dancing, was more than miracle happening for him.  
“As much as I hate to admit it, I’m a human too, Taeyong. I do have a heart like you.”  
Taeyong granted him a lopsided smile and nodded, “Good to know.”  
Taeyong threw his arms around Doyoung's neck lazily, looking at him through his lashes. Doyoung’s held on Taeyong's waist tightened, feeling how small the other’s waist was, pressing their bodies together. Doyoung shifted his gaze lower to Taeyong’s lips. He licked his own lips unconsciously. And then, with the look on Taeyong's face and his own infatuation, he kissed him. For the moment, he didn't want to remember that he was supposed to kill Taeyong. He just wanted to hold him and give him the worship he deserved. And a night they’d never forget.  
When they pulled apart, he asked, “Do you wanna go somewhere else?”  
Taeyong beamed, “Glad you asked.”  
Thinking that it was going to be Taeyong’s last trip, he decided to let the older have what he wanted. Taeyong might not be able to see the end of tomorrow. He wouldn’t be able to live the life he had anymore. “Have some place you want to go?”  
Taeyong shook his head. “Surprise me.”  
Doyoung tilted his head, “Really?”  
Taeyong hummed, “Come on. Before I change my mind.”  
Doyoung remembered that was what he said to the older earlier and laughed pulling Taeyong with him. He could hear the older squealing and skipping his steps behind him. He felt himself grinning with excitement, taking in the feeling of Taeyong’s hand in his hold.  
He always wanted to do a road trip with someone he treasured before. Driving mindlessly, just letting the vehicle take them anywhere, not caring about destinations, and not being bothered about anything. Just him and his significant other being themselves, wasting their lives together. He just didn’t know it’d happen at all. He had buried all his of hopes in the back of his mind, thinking that with his job, it wouldn’t bring them both nothing good, if he ever had significant other. He would consider Taeyong as his most treasured person though. Now he was with the older, driving with no destination in the middle of the night. With his beautiful smile, singing out of tune to random songs the radio played, looking as if he was truly enjoying himself. And Doyoung was contented.  
Taeyong fell asleep at some point of the trip, exhausted from the shouting the lyrics out of his lungs like Doyoung didn’t have ears to keep. But he didn’t complain as he was surfing the wave of joy seeing Taeyong without restraint, dancing with no shame, singing without all the care in the world to the emo bands’ songs. He found out the older rap very well too, he wondered what Taeyong couldn’t do.  
They arrived at a beach. Doyoung parked the car but didn’t wake Taeyong. The latter looked peaceful in his sleep. His breath was even, his lips were slightly parted, his hair disheveled. He looked young, which was true regarding the fact he was only a year older than Doyoung, if it wasn’t for the wrinkles under his eyes, showing how life had been adding years other than his actual age to his body. Doyoung didn’t realize smile creeping on his face while he watched Taeyong sleep. Then an idea popped in his mind. He snapped a photo of sleeping Taeyong. Now he regretted not upgrading his phone, sticking to his old iPhone 7, thinking what was upgrading for if he didn’t have much to do with it. Now, for wanting to have the elder’s photo in higher resolution, he was just too smitten for Taeyong.  
He sighed and put back his phone on his pocket. He leaned to Taeyong to adjust the seat so the latter could sleep more comfortably. Seeing Taeyong’s face so close, he was so tempted to kiss those lips, feeling them molded against his again, how could he not. But he decided against it. He moved the hair that fell on the elder’s face and caressed his soft cheek, hand lingered not long enough to his liking. Satisfied, he leaned back to his seat and let Taeyong sleep as he watched the dawn slowly coming in the horizon. Now he knew what perfect moment was. Maybe his life didn’t hate him so much after all.  
Taeyong woke up to the sunrise. He opened his eyes slowly and blinked at the unfamiliar car he was in. He sat up abruptly, franticly looking around. But he calmed down when his eyes fell on Doyoung.  
“Good morning, Sunshine,” Doyoung greeted him with a soft chuckle. “Did you sleep well?”  
“Huh?” Taeyong responded, still not registering where he was. He rubbed his eyes, grunting inaudible greeting with his lips curved upwards. He sat blankly for a moment, mindlessly ruffling his own hair.  
Doyoung found morning Taeyong was cute he laughed, “You okay there?”  
Taeyong yawned. “Where are we?”  
Doyoung gestured his head towards the beach. “Surprise.”  
Taeyong looked out of the window idly. But the remaining of his sleep was swept away the second his eyes landed on the view. He turned back to Doyoung swiftly the younger afraid he broke his neck. “The beach?” he squeaked.  
Doyoung laughed, “Yes, Taeyong, we’re at the beach. Do you like it?”  
Taeyong nodded his head vigorously, “Yes, so much!”  
Doyoung smiled softly, somehow feeling as if he had achieved something big in his life. Something worth remembering. Well, looking how Taeyong’s face lit up so brightly, that wasn’t wrong.  
Taeyong opened the door and stepped his feet outside, but he turned back to land a kiss on Doyoung’s cheek and thanked him before he flew to the beach. Doyoung was stunned, the kiss happened so fast he almost didn’t catch that indeed, happened. But the skin Taeyong kissed felt warm he brought his hand to touch the spot. When he came down from his high, he followed Taeyong to the beach. The older was kicking the water, splashing it everywhere, playing around like a child. He shoved his hands to his jeans’ pocket, watching Taeyong in contented amusement. Not before taking few photos of the moment, for scientific purposes. Taeyong looked genuinely happy he was practically glowing in his eyes.  
Taeyong noticed his presence, stopping his antics and waved to him, “Come here!”  
Doyoung laughed and shook his head. “Nah, I’m fine.”  
Taeyong jutted his bottom lip even though Doyoung couldn’t see it from the distance. “You’re no fun!”  
Doyoung scrunched his nose and made faces, “I know right.”  
Then Taeyong came running to him. Wide eyed, he walked backwards, “No, you’re not getting me into the water, Taeyong.”  
“Why notttt,” Taeyong whined, quickened his pace.  
Doyoung turned then ran halfheartedly from him, shouting, “I don’t wanna get wet!”  
“What’s the point of coming to the beach if you don’t get wet?” Taeyong shouted back.  
“Just for the sake of coming?”  
The older stopped chasing Doyoung making him turned. Only to see his face turned dark. There was frown on the latter’s face, his mind went somewhere else, and Doyoung’s heart dropped.  
From what he had found of Taeyong, the older was very dedicated to his job. His coworker trusted him, his employees respected him, and his fellows looked up to him. But as the workload heightened and pressure weighing him got heavier, competitions, difficulties and obstacles maddened, expectations went higher and higher every time, Taeyong fell into depression. He still went to work diligently, he still did everything very well, he still tried his hardest to meet everyone's expectations, but he lost himself in the midst of it all. He had been seeing therapist but he told nobody about it, and nobody noticed either. He kept the strong, reliable but smiley CEO facades in front of everyone. He fell deeper when he forced himself doing more works, trying to distract himself from his own mind but not to avail. He succeeded in establishing his company, but he was also depressed. Doyoung’s heart ached imagining Taeyong had to endure everything alone.  
The thought of Taeyong being depressed made Doyoung anxious. He wanted to curse the world for what it did to Taeyong, he wanted to be angry at anything that had caused the depression on the older, but mostly, he wanted to hold and fix him. He walked to the older, afraid that the sudden halt might be because of Taeyong’s depression. “Taeyong?”  
Taeyong shook his head, as if Doyoung’s call had pulled him back from his reverie. “What is it?”  
Doyoung wanted to put his hand on Taeyong’s shoulder, but he was afraid the older would mistake his gesture as invading his personal space so he kept them on his sides. “Are you okay?”  
Taeyong smiled and nodded, “Why do you ask?”  
Doyoung might not have met too many people but he knew Taeyong’s smile was false this time. He shook his head and smiled. He extended his hand to the older. Taeyong stared at him in confusion but then he took his hand with mischievous gleam on his eyes. Before Doyoung could decipher what the look in Taeyong’s eyes mean Taeyong was already dragging him, with a surprisingly strong grip. Taeyong ignored his incessant “No” and laughed on his face when he pushed him to the water.  
“You…!”  
Taeyong laughed and made faces to Doyoung but he shrieked when the younger chased him. Doyoung caught him and pulled him to the water with him in a back hug. Taeyong wriggled on Doyoung’s hold but the younger wouldn’t let go. They wrestled in the water, chasing each other around; splashing water to one another, Doyoung already forgot he didn’t want to get wet. When they were finally out of breathed, they laid side by side on the sand, wet and contented. When their eyes met, they laughed for nothing until their lungs gave up. When their hands brushed, Doyoung linked their pinky fingers, but Taeyong intertwined their hands together in eager. They inched closer and kissed.  
When the sun was on its’ peak, their clothes so wet they were glued to their bodies, sand everywhere, and their tummies cried, they decided to move, holding hands. Doyoung drove to the nearby market to get them both clean, dry new clothes. Taeyong whined when Doyoung said he was going to pick for their clothes saying the older was a fashion terrorist, complaining Doyoung’s taste wasn’t even that great. When the time to pay came, Doyoung wasn't surprised to see Taeyong charmed the seller to give them discount for almost half the total price. They, more like Taeyong dragging the Doyoung everywhere, fooled around trying hats and trinkets. Apparently Taeyong was a fan of chains he got Doyoung bought him a pair. And a pair of earrings, “For mementos”, he said. They went into a 24/7 store to buy snacks but makeup corner caught Taeyong's eyes, leaving Doyoung to do the initial task byhimself.  
"Whoa, stores these days really sell these?" Taeyong said to himself in amazement as he picked up random bottle of foundation and checked the tone number.  
Doyoung came to him a moment later with shopping basket filled with foods, beverages and toothbrushes in his hand. The sight of Taeyong being fascinated and focused on picking the products was adorable he could stare forever. But he was starving and he knew so was the older. "Come on, Tae."  
"Doie, we should buy these!" The older exclaimed waving the makeup products in his hands.  
Doyoung blushed at the nickname but he waved it, "For what?"  
"For collection,” Taeyong said, rolling his eyes. “Come on, you'll look even more handsome with these!" He pressed the bottles to his cheeks, "Please, Doie?"  
He knows I'm weak for him. Doyoung groaned, "Fine."  
"You're the best!" Taeyong cheered, dumping the products in his hand to the basket carelessly and went back checking the shelves contents.  
Doyoung really wanted to believe Taeyong actually meant what he said but he didn’t want to get his hopes up when they weren’t meant to be together. "Just be quick."  
Taeyong eye sided him and smirked, "Why the hurry?"  
Doyoung felt his face reddened. Taeyong’s teasing was infuriating he just wanted to pin the older down. But he just clicked his tongue, "Whatever."  
He sighed watching Taeyong humming happily throwing bottles and tubes of makeup to the basket. He never cared about how he looked, much less about makeup, but he’d seen some kind of the makeup products from when Yuta tried to dress him up for a blind date the elder had set for him. He liked how he looked, but he would never admit it and Yuta finally gave up convincing him to put on makeup again.  
Taeyong waved a small box in front of his face, pulling him from his reverie, "Can I get this too?"  
The younger shoved the box away from his face, "What is that?"  
Taeyong clicked his tongue. "Hair dye! I'm tired of my hair color and this looks good!"  
Doyoung eyed the box closely then Taeyong's hair. "You look fine with that hair color."  
"What?" Taeyong's face reddened from the sudden compliment. No matter how much people praise him for his looks, he’d still feel shy with any compliments addressed to him. And to receive one from someone as handsome as Doyoung, how could he not feel good.  
"I mean..." Taeyong was just being flustered but did his face look so adorable like that. Doyoung cleared his throat. Man, I am weak for him. "I mean okay, you can have that."  
Taeyong looked at him in surprise and blinked. "Oh. Thank you," he put the box in the basket timidly, suddenly conscious of his action. He chewed his lips and rubbed his nape, cheeks adorably red.  
They didn’t talk for a moment. Taeyong followed Doyoung quietly to the cashier. What a nice deja vu, Doyoung snickered to himself inwardly.  
When they were about to get in the line, Taeyong peeked from Doyoung's shoulder to see the basket’s content. "Aish, what is that?"  
Doyoung turned to the older, "What?"  
"That!" Taeyong took a bar from the basket. "Granola bar? Seriously, Doie?"  
Doyoung quirked his brows, "Its strawberry flavored."  
"No! Are you crazy? What's the point of snacking if it's healthy?" He turned Doyoung's body to reach the basket and grabbed the other bars.  
"Taeyong, what are you doing?"  
Taeyong looked at him in the eye and said in serious tone, "We're getting chips."  
"What?"  
Taeyong flee before Doyoung could say anything else. The younger sighed then smiled apologetically to the cashier and wait for the older on the side line. Taeyong came back with big bags of chips and sodas, big smile plastered on his face.  
"You said 'chips', what's with the soda?" he asked the older with an unimpressed face.  
Taeyong grinned cheekily, "What's life without a bit of cola?" Then dumped the said snacks to the basket, satisfied of himself, not even sorry.  
"You'll get sick if you keep eating unhealthy food like this," the younger nagged at the older but made no move to remove the unhealthy addition. The older had the audacity to dance gleefully to him when he paid for their groceries. He ignored the mocking look the cashier sent him and Taeyong.

After filling their stomach in a local diner, they settled in an old, rusty motel with fading paint and barely hanging board in the middle of nowhere. If Taeyong wondered if Doyoung was going to kill him there, he didn’t say anyhing. Not long after they got the key for their room, Doyoung found them in weirdly suggesting position, he was seated on toilet’s lid with Taeyong on his lap, his hand circled around the elder’s waist to prevent him from falling. But they were not doing anything physical in a way he much preferred they did, much to his discontent. Taeyong’s face was so close their breathes were fused together in the air, his eyes were so focused to his face he could feel his face warm, their bodies were so close all he needed to do was tightened his hold and there would be literally zero mile between them. But Taeyong was putting makeup on him, with concentration and determination that would look ridiculous for putting on makeup but he pulled it well with that inhumanly beautiful face. His hands were moving carefully on his face, “Doing magic,” in his words. Doyoung wouldn’t complain though, he could contemplate how beautiful Taeyong was from upclose, seeing how he was so flawless, and everything about him was so perfect, like how was that even possible for a mere human? Doyoung was agitated to just have Taeyong on him, moreover touching him, he wouldn’t ask for more.  
Taeyong leaned back when he was done, tilting Doyoung’s head gently with his fingers, inspecting his work. He felt the younger’s intense gaze on him the wole time but he ignored it despite the loud thumping in his chest. He scanned the latter’s now fully covered with makeup face and smiled proudly, “Perfect.”  
Doyoung didn’t hold back the protest whine when Taeyong got up from his lap. “Already?”  
Taeyong laughed when he put the makeups in front of the mirror and turned back to flick his forehead, “You’re so whiny.”  
“Shut up.” Doyoung swatted his hand and pouted Taeyong’s heart leaped out of his chest at the sight.  
Doyoung’s noticed the tinge of pink in Taeyong’s cheek when he pouted. The older was so adorable he gave up to the urge to tease him further. He got up and walked towards Taeyong, which wasn’t difficult with the narrow space in the small bathroom. The older grew visibly nervous, he fliched and stepped backwards until his back touched the sink. Doyoung smirked, taunting him more and moved dangerously closer, resting both of his hands on the sink on the either side of Taeyong’s, trapping him.  
Taeyong brought his hands to his chest in unconscious defence. “W-what are you doing?”  
Doyoung moved his face closer to Taeyong’s until their noses touched. He locked gazes with the older for a moment, drinking the sight of flustered Taeyong. Taeyong was so so beautiful he had to hold himself from ravishing him then and there. Taeyong deserved better than that. Then Doyoung grinned innocently as if he didn’t just have inappropriate thoughts about the older and looked in the mirror, “You’re right, I look perfect. Thanks.”  
Taeyoung was dumbfounded, “Wha-“  
Doyoung threw his head back and clacking, “What were you thinking?”  
“Fuck off,” Taeyong hissed in embarrassment.  
Doyoung smirked, “It seems you were thinking of perverted things, hmm?”  
Taeyong snorted, “Speak for yourself. As if you haven’t been checking on me like crazy.”  
Doyoung leaned down again their lips almost touched, eyes on Taeyong’s lips then shifted to his eyes. His gaze darkened, the look Taeyong knew so well. The younger whispered, lips ghosting on Taeyong’s, “And what about it? Can’t waste the chance to appreciate the angel in presence now, can I?”  
Taeyong opened and closed his mouth before muttering, “Fuck you, Doyoung.”  
Doyoung chuchkled and licked his lips, “I wouldn’t mind, but I also want to try the other way around.”  
Taeyong gaped at him and slapped his chest. “Get away from me.”  
“What if I say no?” the younger said in husky voice, grabbing Taeyong’s hand on his chest. He saw desire in Taeyong’s eyes but also remorse, like he was waiting for him to make the move. He licked his lips again as he felt his own desire of the other grew. “Why are you so irresistible, Taeyong?”  
Taeyong bit his lips and gripped the younger’s shirt, “Then don’t. Don’t resist me.”  
Doyoung touched the latter's face cautiously with his free hand, not wanting to scare the older away. When he felt Taeyong didn't pull back, he let his fingertips caressing his cheeks, carressing him so gently, so carefully as if he was a porcelain doll. "You're so fucking beautiful, Taeyong."  
Taeyong hold Doyoung's hand on his cheek and pressed it to face, tilting his head to kiss the palm. "Thank you, Doyoung."  
They locked gazes. Taeyong’s beautiful black orbs were drawing him in; making him lost all his senses. He rubbed his thumb on Taeyong’s lips, eyes darted to his soft, plush lips and back to his eyes. “Can I?” He wanted to cherish the older, but he didn’t want to taint him with his filthy hands.  
But the older answered him with sucking his thumb, licking, eyes on him. “You don’t have to ask.”  
Doyoung eyed him again, looking for any sign of hesitation in the elder’s eyes. When he found none, he pushed his thumb farther in Taeyong’s mouth. Taeyong sighed at the pressure and closed his eyes, sucking, licking the thumb, encouraging Doyoung to move. He felt Doyoung’s other hand slipping under his shirt, carressing him slowly. But there was only so long Taeyong could wait, he was already so hot and he needed to feel more. He opened his eyes, removing the thumb from his mouth and pulled him for a kiss. Doyoung was taken by Taeyong’s boldness but soon regained his composure and took control. Taeyong was sweet Doyoung was addicted already, he lifted him to sit on the sink, not breaking the kiss.  
Taeyong pulled his shirt, breaking the kiss. He chuckled at Doyoung’s protest. He put his hand on his lips when Doyoung leaned closer again. “Bed.”  
The next thing Taeyong knew, he was thrown to the bed. The poor old thing creaking loudly under him. And from the look on Doyoung’s eyes, they were going to have to pay for a broken bed after tonight. Taeyong couldn’t care less though. He wanted this as much as Doyoung did. He was going to die, and he wasn’t going to die without letting the handsome assasin above him to know how he feel like. Because Taeyong would be lying if he said he didn’t want Doyoung after he took him to the bar, to the dance floor, to the beach, and did his desire grow bigger after knowing Doyoung didn’t take advantage of him— he knew so, it was his body after all— and he even didn’t dare to make a move until Taeyong did. And letting Doyoung have a taste and ruin him he would.

Doyoung stared at the man lying beside him as he caressed his face. Doyoung sighed as he felt himself leaning to the touch. The way Taeyong’s lithe fingers moved so gently on his skin made his heart ache.  
Taeyong's hand moved lower slowly, stroking his jaw, to his neck, to his collarbone, then to his chest. "You will kill me after this, right?"  
Doyoung stiffened. "Yes."  
"Can you promise to kill them then?" Taeyong's face was unreadable and he retreat his hand to keep it on his own bare chest.  
"As long as you pay me, I will."  
Taeyong's face darkened and Doyoung felt his heart dropped. For once in his rotten, damned life, Doyoung regretted his ever seemingly heartless facades. He wanted Taeyoung to know his true nature; who he was outside of his job, and Doyoung was aching to know Taeyong without his worries, when he didn’t want to die, when he was happy, to hold him in his moments of uncertainties, to give him the comfort and assurance that everything was going to be okay, that he would be there for him.  
But then Taeyong smiled. "I will, don't worry."  
Doyoung knew he fell for that smile already. He might be a corrupted citizen, but that didn’t mean he didn’t have a heart to feel anything. And his heart was screaming to him to protect the beautiful man right before him. But he knew he couldn’t. So he tried to do what he could, comforting him. Doyoung tried to muster the best smile he could. "He's lucky. I mean your brother. He’s lucky to have you."  
Taeyong laughed. "If anything, I'm the one who's lucky to have him as a brother. He may be younger but he's more mature and more reliable than me, you know. He never burdens me at all."  
Doyoung loved how Taeyong's eyes always sparkled everytime he talked about his brother, like his brother was his most precious treasure in the whole world, so he let Taeyong continued.  
"Minhyung— Mark, he wants to be called 'Mark' now. ‘It’s cooler' he said. I disagree, for me 'Minhyung' is fine, it's cute.” He chuckled before continuing, “He might be legally an adult now, but he will always be my cute little baby brother.  
"He is always compared to me, you know. My parents are always more proud of me. And if he's jealous, he never says anything. Not to me at least. But I know he repects and looks up to me. He comes to me for advice, and sometimes for whining about uni or about his love life. It happens very rarely though, because, as I said, he’s very mature and is absolutely, fully capable of solving his problems on his own. Sometimes I think he grows too fast because even before I know it, he moved out of the house to live in his university’s dorm.  
“And I know he feels like he's under my shadow. But he never gives up, you know. He's a very hardworking person. He studies and practices hard to achieve our parents' acknowledgement. But it hurts me too, you know, to watch my brother works so hard just to get our parents’ acknowledgement.  
"But he knows his limits and, I think, because he didn’t want to be compared to me anymore; he took different path from me. He writes music now. Writing has been his passion since forever and he always drowns himself in music. I had to do a lot of convincing and negotiating to our parents behind his back for them to accept his choices— can you believe that? Not that I regret it. He deserves to be able to do what he loves, not to be shoved into doing what he despises the most— business. He hates the subject economy to the core, you know," Taeyong laughed then he paused. He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. His eyes were filled with sorrow as he continued, "And to be placed under my shadow again."  
The sorrow in Taeyong’s eyes broke Doyoung’s heart. Since their first encounter the night prior, he had seen those eyes shaking in fear, glowing in happiness, even rolled in pleasure. This, definitely wasn’t the look he wanted to see in Taeyong, in his last moments. Out of the urge needs to comfort the other, Doyoung held Taeyong's hands. He kissed his hands and brought them to his cheeks. Taeyong turned to look at him. He looked so vulnerable, something that Doyoung couldn't afford to be, in the dark world he lived in. And what hurt him the most, Taeyong looked so fragile, like a thin glass that would break if he even as much as touched him.  
All his life, Doyoung never had to try hard to achieve anything. He just got them like that. He never studied, but he always got perfect scores his classmates hate him. He never practiced, but he always snatched the first place in singing competitions his rivals feared him. He never asked, but somehow his parents always knew what he wanted and gave him whatever he laid his eyes on in the next evening his brother envies him. He never had problem dating, since everybody would say yes to him. Because they saw him as a trophy. Because he was Doyoung. Not even after he moved out to live on his own and he found himself in the dark side. Killing came so easy for him some of his foes died in his hands because they envied and try to get rid of him. As blessed as it seemed his life was it was also a curse for him. Everything was so easy life became dull, he grew up never wanting anything, he never felt the strong desire to achieve something, and the amount of hate, of betrayal, the people using him for whatever reasons, turned him not only unbeatable, but also bitter and aimless.  
Until he met Taeyong. The older made him feel the things that never existed in his dictionary, like the craving to always have the older in his hold. Upon seeing Taeyong lied there beside him, breathing, simply existing, he’d be damned if he said he didn’t wish for better encounter, better circumstances, better settings like those sappy romance anime and dramas Yuta shoved on his face to watch. And he finally got to know what ‘contagious smile’ is– Yuta’s healing smile didn’t count, because it was Yuta— as he found himself smiled everytime Taeyong smiled. He never thought of anyone else’s happines, other than his parents and his friends, because everyone else wanted him die anyways, but he just knew Taeyong’s happiness mattered to him. He found that weird that he always gave in to Taeyong’s wishes at first, but then he accepted it as what came with falling for Taeyong. Watching him desperate, sad and broken, another thing Doyoung never had in his life sparked in his mind, a resolution. "I'll kill them, Taeyong," he said to him, his voice final.  
Taeyong smiled weakly. "Thank you, Doyoung."  
Doyoung leaned to kiss him again, hoping it was enough to ease the elder’s heart even for a bit. Taeyong kissed back. No words were exchanged. Both of them were too afraid to say those words, afraid if any of them said the word they would step into dangerous, foreign place, in the world so cruel where fate wouldn’t even allow it to happen. Allow them to happen. Their breaths were heavy with too much to feel, too much to say, but not enough courage, and the careless, eager touches, were too thick with the thirst to feel some sense of fulfillment from each other. Not enough marks, not enough time, not enough language to translate what was on the tip of their tongues. Both just held one another closer, tighter, trying to convey how they felt with their bodies, hoping the time would show some mercy.

Taeyong was humming while rummaging Doyoung’s backpack wearing only Doyoung’s shirt that didn’t even hide his flat butt. While Doyoung lied on his side, watching from the bed, admiring the view as if his life was depended on it. He wondered inwardly about how Taeyong was still so wired despite of the countless intercourse they had. While there he was, feeling so worn out already. But he shouldn’t be surprised, really, considering the lack of physical activity in his daily life. But who could resist the bed, sue him. Taeyong didn’t comment on his nonexistent stamina though, he loved their intercourses as they were, or so he said. His only complaints were how Doyoung was too careful with him and why didn’t he leave marks. Doyoung just shrugged and said that his skin was too perfect for sex traces, to which the older snorted loudly, whining about that was a part that came with it.  
Taeyong put out everything he found in Doyoung’s bag and arranged them neatly on the small coffee table in the room. From his wallet, his watch, his phones, to his blade and his handgun. “You’re really a boring person,” he commented when there was nothing left in the bag.  
Taeyong held up a gun and somehow Doyoung felt nervous. “Put that back in, Taeyong.”  
"Are you going to kill me with this?" Taeyong twirled the gun in his hand.  
Doyoung bit his lip. "Yes. So the death will be quick and painless."  
Taeyong shifted his gaze from the gun to the younger. “No,” he said as he put the gun back in the backpack as Doyoung told him. Then he turned to Doyoung again, his eyes were unreadable. "Use something painful."  
Before Doyoung could open his mouth, he continued, "Make my death slow and painful."  
"Why?" Was the only thing Doyoung could say.  
Taeyong stretched a sad smile. "To remind me how painful it was to live. To remind me that I was— you are the one who’s going to set me free from this hell called life." Taeyong walked to the bed and sat on the end of it, taking Doyoung's hand in his, making Doyoung sat up, and kissed it. "To remind me the reason I met you." He held their hands on his chest.  
Doyoung could feel his heart shattering. He was sorry,he wanted to apologize even though he knew sorry wouldn’t change anything. But he still voiced his mind, croaking, "I'm sorry."  
Taeyong cupped his face, "Please don't be. I got to meet a handsome assasin after all."  
Doyoung snorted, Taeyong just laughed.  
"I'm gonna find you, Taeyong."  
Taeyong tilted his head in confusion.  
"In the next life, I'm gonna find you again. And I’m not going to kill you."  
Doyoung never believed in any kind of faith existed in this world, but somehow he believed there was One great entity up there watching, ruling the world, allowing everything to happened to watch just how far humans could go with their vanity in this temporary life. He also didn’t want to believe in the concept of heaven and hell, but he wanted to believe in the reincarnation and the void. Because for him, some evil people lived far too long than the good people they deserved the punishment of emptiness, including himself. He’d watched how the world had fucked good people so bad they got tired of the world, but being the good examples they were, they remained good until the very end in their short lives. But at this very moment, he wished the deity above he wasn’t too corrupted to go to the void. He wanted to be able to see Taeyong again, he wanted to be good for Taeyong, he was used with life fucking him on daily basis already so he wouldn’t mind life fucking him some more, for Taeyong. He never had a reason to be good before, other than his parents. But he couldn’t regret being bad even if he wanted to, for if he wasn’t bad, if he wasn’t a murderer, he wouldn’t crossed paths with Taeyong, he wouldn’t had have to kill him, he wouldn’t have met his Taeyong.  
Taeyong smiled, he raised his pinky finger. "Then I'm gonna wait for you, Doyoung."  
Doyoung raised his pinky finger and sealed their promise. He kissed Taeyong’s forehead and hugged him. They stayed like that for a moment, basking in each other’s warmth, taking in the feeling the other’s skin on theirs, feeling their heart beats syncing.  
Doyoung pulled back regretfully from the hug. He didn’t want to do this, but he had to get this over already so he could go back to his meaningless life without Taeyong. So he could mourn over Taeyong, not bring him into his dangerous life. No, he wouldn’t ruin Taeyong’s life like that. He left Taeyong on the bed to reach his scattered clothes on the floor. Then he pulled out a pocket knife from his jeans' pocket. He saw Taeyong's eyes shaking as he saw him unfolding the knife. He felt tears brimming in his eyes but he had to do this. "Slow and painful."  
Taeyong met his eyes, nodded. "Slow and painful."  
Doyoung sat back on the bed next to Taeyong then circled his hand around his neck to cover his mouth, and then his other hand stabbed Taeyong’s stomach. He closed his eyes as he felt Taeyong gasped to his hand, writhing from the pain. Taeyong tried to pull the younger’s hand from his mouth and Doyoung complied, slowly removing his hand.  
He opened his eyes to meet Taeyong's tender gaze. The older was smiling to him. He whispered, "Thank you, Doyoung."  
Doyoung pushed the knife deeper and Taeyong choked and coughed blood. Taeyong covered his mouth with the back of his own hand. Doyoung saw Taeyong slowly losing focus, whimpering. "I'm sorry Taeyong, I'm sorry."  
Taeyong shook his head and reached Doyoung's face. "Please don’t be sorry, you’re doing me a favor. Me and your client. You’re doing us a favor.” He saw the pain in Doyoung’s eyes. He saw regret, he saw unfathomable sadness, and he saw his own reflection in those beautiful eyes. He’d only known the younger for barely a day, but he knew the younger was shouldering pain he couldn’t even imagine. “You’re a good guy, Doyoung. So you better show up in my next life. Because I’ll wait for you.” He smiled because he knew Doyoung loved his smile. “Find me, Doie."  
Doyoung clenched his jaw and twirled the knife in his hand. He buried his head on Taeyong's neck. He pulled the knife out only to stab it onto Taeyong’s other side of stomach. Taeyong choked out a whimper, crying in pain. Doyoung wanted to stop, he really did. But he had to finish what he started, and Taeyong wanted to die so bad so maybe he was helping him. He stabbed Taeyong’s thigh and left the knife there, not wanting to give Taeyong more pain even if that was what Taeyong wanted. He felt Taeyong's body slumping in his hands.  
Between his ragged breaths, his body trembling in pain, Taeyong croaked, “Not enough, Doie.”  
Doyoung closed his eyes and clenched his jaw. “Shut up, Tae.”  
“I said ‘slow and painful’. This is not painful enough.”  
“I said shut up, Taeyong.”  
Taeyong huffed a “Boring.”  
“I said shut up!” Doyoung ended up breaking his arms to shut him up. But he regretted it instantly the second Taeyong cried harder. He constantly apologized but Taeyong only shook his head and smiled.  
Doyoung hated his job, but never before he despised taking someone’s life as much as he did with Taeyong. He regretted picking up the unidentified number two days prior. He regretted searching for the information about the new target. He regretted pointing the gun at his beautiful target. But he didn’t regret taking him for a drink. He didn’t regret dancing with tipsy Taeyong. He didn’t regret taking him to the beach. He didn’t regret lying side by side with him and listened to the story about his brother. But he regretted he had to fulfill his wish to make his death slow and painful. He regretted not knowing if he could fill his won promise to find Taeyong in their next life, because he was rotten to the core.  
As if it wasn’t painful enough for him having to kill the only person who could make him feel something that wasn’t loathe of life, something stronger than a sense of protection, something stronger than just wanting to provide comfort, something stronger than a desire to have him for himself only, stronger than just want to make Taeyong smile. A feeling he didn’t know he will ever had the luxury to feel in his damned life. The pure kind of bliss he could only dream of before. Why destiny loved making his life a miserable joke so much. And Doyoung didn’t even believe in destiny.  
Taeyong's breathe was heavy, his voice strained when he called the younger, "Doyoung..."  
Doyoung frowned, he spoke with gritted teeth, "Don't speak, idiot."  
Taeyong forced a laugh but what came out was horrible sound of air coming out of his mouth. "Do something for me."  
Doyoung coughed out a choke, trying to hold his tears. He growled but his voice croaked, "What is it?"  
Taeyong closed his eyes, trying to gather enough strength to speak. "Burn your jeans."  
Doyoung snapped his head to look at Taeyong in the eye. How could he talk about Doyoung’s jeans when he was literally dying in Doyoung’s arms? "Really now?"  
Taeyong huffed weakly and smiled. "They're horrible."  
A single tear rolled down on Doyoung's face. "I will. Now shut up. Breathe with me."  
Taeyong answered, his voice was barely a whisper, "Good."  
"Inhale, exhale," the younger commanded the dying Taeyong. His tears were falling to Taeyong's face. The older could barely keep up as his breathing got more difficult for him. "That's it, breathe with me," he kept going as he felt Taeyong's pulses grew weaker. He didn't know what he was trying for, after he stabbed crucial points on Taeyong's body; enough to paralyze and drain blood out of him. He didn't know why he was trying to convince himself that Taeyong would be okay, that he would be alive, that he would be safe, when he was dying in his own very hands. He didn't know why he tried to make Taeyong breathe properly when he broke enough of his bones to create excruciating pain. He didn't know why but he tried anyway, with tears streaming down his face, "Very well, you're doing good, Taeyong."  
Taeyong didn't have enough strength to speak anymore so he just smiled. He smiled as he felt blood flowing out of his body, as he bore the overwhelming pain of broken bones, as he felt weaker and he struggled a lot just to breathe. He smiled for his murderer, his savior, his Doyoung.  
As Taeyong inhaled his long last breathe, Doyoung whispered, "I’ll find you, Tae. I will."  
"See you again, love." Taeyong exhaled his last breath; with a smile on is face.  
Doyoung threw his knife away; he brought the now lifeless Taeyong to his chest. Taeyong's blood covered them both in scarlet. It was messy, Taeyong was a mess, but he didn't care. He held Taeyong's still warm body tightly, his own body shaking from the crying, hoping miracle would happen and Taeyong would be back alive. He wailed letting the tears streamed down his face as he screamed in agony. Never did Doyoung hate his life more than he hated it now, with him covered in Taeyong’s blood, holding his lover’s dead body, whose life was taken by his own hand. He cursed his life, he cursed his job, and he cursed himself. He wanted to curse Taeyong for exising, for being so perfect, for being so successful, enough to make someone jealous and paid him to kill Taeyong. He wanted to curse the older for making him falling even though he knew he shouldn’t. He wanted to curse him for thanking Doyoung for taking his life.  
He went to Taeyong’s office to get his job done. But he found what he didn’t know had been missing from his life. He took the older out for drink to help him forget his problems, but he got what he didn’t know he needed to feel alive. He met Taeyong with the initial intention to kill, but he was brought to find love. Fate put Taeyong in his hands, and he was both cursed and blessed, to feel what love was. Now he understood why some people were so eager to die; they weren't where they belong, to be by their loves' sides. He hated his life. But he hated more that he was alive, without Taeyong now. Without his love.

The assassin leaned on his car, holding the cigarette between his lips, not really smoking, as he watched the motel he stayed with his target burned down in flame. It looked beautiful, the color of fire lit up the whole neighborhood in the darkest time of the night, with the stars nowhere to be seen, and as if they were ashamed by how bright the fire was, reaching the sky with its fingertips, fading as the higher it tried to touch the blue. And the firefighters on work, trying to tame the flame, being ironic, by wearing the same color of the thing they tried to take down, bright orange. The frantic sound of people panicking breaking the silence that was engulfing the small town just a few hours before, with yelling, screaming, crying. He knew he was a fuck up, since he felt nothing but ease to see the scene unfolding before him. But he couldn't care less. None of those things happening caused by his own two hands concerned him. Only someone waiting in his car had his concern.  
He spat the cigarette to the concrete below him, stepped on it then slid to his car. Without as much as second glance, he drove farther away from the burning motel, to the opposite direction of the town, making his way to the unknown. He took turn to a dark pathway, feeling more like home than anything with the uncertainty of what was going to happen to him, to his life. He put more speed to the vehicle, wallowing himself in the calmness of the dark, empty road. He was going to be fine.  
He glanced to his side, where his lover’s now cold body safely buckled on his seat by his side. He still looked as beautiful as ever even with colors leaving his body. He smiled and focused back on the road. He let the night swallow them. He knew he was leading them to the endless tunnel of darkness. But they would be fine. He would make sure of it. Nothing. Nothing could make them suffer anymore.

**Author's Note:**

> if you've managed to read until the end, congratulations! and see, my baby isn't ignorant, he's just kinda guarded and misguided. and i just love torturing my characters lol jk. please let me know what you think and have a nice day!


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